Mission Accomplished
by mizukiryu73
Summary: Control is not something easily taken. That is not to say that it cannot be forced, but it is never easy to keep. Unfortunately for Loki, he'd never heard of Voldemort, nor his failure.
1. Broken Wing

Chapter One – Broken Wings

**Wonder**

It was shortly before school let out in his third year of elementary, that Harry saw a bow for the first time. The teacher was doing a history lesson on medieval weapons, and had miraculously managed to get permission to bring in real examples. While the rest of the mostly male class fawned over the broadswords, Harry hesitantly approached the two bows that had been laid out – a long bow and a short bow.

Although Harry didn't know it, his teacher saw his awed look. And if Harry somehow earned a few extra detentions in those early summer days, no one noted that fact as odd. Harry, of course, would keep the secret 'til he died, because he would not give the Dursley's a reason to take away his only hobby and gift – the short bow that he was learning to wield.

**Darkest Before Dawn**

To an outsider Harry's childhood would have been hell. Had anyone bothered to check on him, just the cupboard under the stairs would have been enough to turn even the most level headed into a one person mob, not to mention the bruises, chores and starvation that was also forced upon the boy. But for Harry, it was simply life.

Oh, he knew that what his relatives did was wrong, but no one ever listened when he tried to tell them. So, instead of complaining, he survived. Even before he got his bow, he was quite proficient in finding things he could eat in the gardens and parks surrounding Privet Drive, and was even able to start fires to cook what wasn't safe raw. And after he got his bow, well, he usually practiced by trying to hit the very agile squirrels and chipmunks.

Even though it wasn't _normal,_ it was how he _survived_, and if nothing else, he was very good a surviving. After all, he survived in an environment the most couldn't. and expected, with all the foresight an almost eleven year old could, to continue to survive like that until he was old enough to leave the Dursley's.

Of course, he foresight never factored in the appearance of a Hogwarts letter.

**Hunting**

Even though the teacher was gone by the next year, Harry kept up with his lessons in the use of his very well hidden bow. In fact, he practiced constantly, up until he left for Hogwarts. Once there, his guide, Hagrid, proved quite helpful, as he taught Harry how to wield a crossbow – never mind that he was eleven – and how to move through the forest.

Harry, between his magic lessons and exploring the castle with his fellow Gryffindors, eagerly soaked up the lessons, which would continue sporadically for his entire time at Hogwarts. Of course, that he sometimes went into the forest, with only his faithful pet hawk to accompany him, did not need to be known.

AN: I am posting this for Dannichigo. She thought the original was worth reading, and after that I couldn't stop expanding it. So, this is one of my stories from my files, and I hope everyone likes it! Please don't forget to review!

~Sayanora!


	2. To Be Free

Chapter 2 – To Be Free

**War**

The minute war was officially declared, Harry found himself in a meeting with the Goblins. Oddly enough, they were not shocked by the full quiver of arrows and his old wooden bow slung across his back. Or, they were better at hiding it than his friends. Instead, the goblins got right down to business (because, after all, time was money).

Little did Harry know, but despite the goblins' refusal to actively participate in the war, their help and respect after it would be invaluable. Because they, best of all, understood the value of several backup plans, with even more escape plans, and, for added insurance, a new identity. So when the Wizarding world turned on Harry like a rabid dog, not a trace could be found of the once Boy-Who –Lived. It was almost as if he had vanished completely, and in a way he had, because he had long since disappeared into the forests of life as Clint Barton.

**Shot in the Dark**

It is almost anticlimactic, the end of the war. Harry knows this castle, this forest, better than anyone, probably even better than the founders themselves. He knows how to navigate Hogwarts's soaring ramparts, where to step lightly so he doesn't fall through, where to crouch for the perfect hawk's eye view. He knows how to sneak through the forest, where to step lightly as to not disturb the various nests and lairs of the forest denizens, which trees will allow him safe passage into their leafy canopies. And most importantly, Harry isn't afraid to kill.

It takes little more than a whisper, impossible to hear in the din of the battle raging on Hogwarts's grounds, and Death Eaters begin to fall, convulsing in agony. Because Harry isn't stupid, and each of his very many arrows is tipped in some kind of poison.

Eventually, he makes his way into the forest, when he has just a handful of arrows left. He notes, when he arrives above Voldemort's camp, that the dark wizard chose a very bad place. Because, they are all very close to one of the smaller Acromantula nests, where at least a few of the massive spiders are watching, if Harry is reading the rustling right. Harry just smirks, because now isn't the time to laugh at Voldemort's folly, and breaths in deeply as he readies one of his last special arrows. Sighting along the bow at the snake currently twining around Voldemort's ankles, Harry lets out his breath at the same time he looses his Basilisk venom laced arrow. Then without wasting a second, he takes his second – and last – basilisk arrow, and puts it straight through Voldemort's knee.

**Outburst **

It doesn't take long for the Wizarding World to turn on Harry, for one of two equally stupid reasons. Either he shouldn't have been able to kill because he was the Golden Poster Boy of the Light, or he was trying to take Voldemort's place in destroying the Wizarding World by using muggle weapons – after all, didn't every wizard know that bows and arrows were their greatest enemy?

Harry, of course, couldn't care less what the idiots of the Wizarding World thought, because he was already at Gringotts making sure his backup plan would work. Although, he couldn't help but comment to the goblins he was working with that this had to be a whole new level of stupid that the Wizarding World was descending to.

**Memory Mathematics**

Part of the Goblins' plan to give Harry a new life involved actually _giving_ him memories of that life – giving his new persona a backstory completely separate from Harry's own. In theory, that should be relatively easy to do. In reality, not so much. After all, even if the mind is prepared for the intruding memories, it will attempt to fight off the addition if the memories are too radical, too different – just like the body will attack transplanted organs. However, instead of just being deadly, memory rejection can drive the person insane.

So, in an effort to keep that from happening, not only was the patient intimately involved in forming the memories, but things like major personality changes or deviations from major memory tipping points were firmly denied. In Harry's case, that meant that his parents still had to be dead, although their deaths could be moved in time – provided he was still a child when it happened because of the impact their deaths had had on his childhood. Not to mention all of the other aspects of Harry's personality. Hence, the difficulty.

Despite all of that, however, the memories of Clint Barton's life began to take shape. Parents dying in a car crash, just like Uncle Vernon had always claimed. Running away to the circus, where he was taught not only the bow, but also raised by the abusive and controlling Swordsman. Training to be better, the best, after his teacher ruined the circus. And magic – because he was still a wizard – but he went to Salem, not Hogwarts, and his schooling didn't end completely in the Wizarding World, because he continue to his mundane schooling all the way through American High School.

Now, he was ready to be set afloat into his new life.

* * *

AN: Wow. I am absolutely shocked at the amount of love this story has gotten. It hasn't even been posted 4 days, and I already have 59 Favs, 109 Follows, and 24 reviews. NONE of my stories have had this much love for a first chapter, so I really hope this second one doesn't disappoint.

So, I'm gonna answer some reviews now!

ShinobiTwin05 - I'm so glad you like it!

ShadowedHand - I think this chapter answers your question, but Harry is Clint.

Anon - Thank you for your suggestion! I did add the part with the bow and Voldemort after your review, and I plan on expanding my first chapter with his years at Hogwarts, I just wanted to get this posted and then I'll start writing that up.

DarkKittehKat - Well, I was going to say wait and see, but as you can see Harry is Clint, which is how this is connected to the Avengers.

Anyway, I hope everyone likes this chapter, and please don't forget to review!

~Sayanora!


	3. Waiting For This Moment

Chapter Three – Waiting for this Moment

**Deceiving**

For Harry, becoming Clint Barton was something like dressing up for a play that never ended. After all, there was a lot the Goblins could, and did, do to prepare him for his new life, but there was really very little that could be done magically that permanently altered someone's appearance. Because hair-color potions were simply a prank item, they could only last for at most a day if one was lucky, and glamours became dangerous if the wearer ever got hurt because they interfered with any kind of medical attention. Not to mention the eyes, which were considered impossible to change with magic. In fact, the only way around these restrictions was being a Metamorphagus, which one had to be _born_ as.

Which meant Harry was stuck with changing his appearance completely without magic. Which, truthfully, was very easy. His hair, sheared into something a little longer than a buzz cut, was kept under control with a monthly haircut and dye – which he did sequestered in the relative safety for his apartment so that no one knew about it. His eye were just as easy, because he still needed glasses and the nonmagical world had this wonderful thing called contacts – which could be made in several different colors. He choose blue.

**Fury**

It takes no time at all for the once Boy-Who-Lived to be found by the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. Harry, now Clint, supposes it's because he sticks out. Not because he doesn't know how to dress, like so many wizards, but because he still moves like someone is going to jump out and attack him from the shadows, his fingers constantly itching for the weapons he has to force himself to leave in his apartment. Not that it ended up mattering much, because they were all hidden in his room, so far away when he opened his door after another tiring day at his boring dead-end job waiting tables at a dingy New York City restaurant to find Nick Fury sitting at his dining room table.

Still, despite the invasion of his space, Fury's offer intrigues Clint, because it's been less than a month, and he can already tell he's starting to go stir-crazy. So Fury's job offer is a blessing that Clint isn't quite sure how to handle. Somehow, though, Fury can _see_ his hesitation, and offers a seemingly simple compromise – do one job. Which, of course, would not remain one job, because really, Clint knew himself well enough to know that the minute he accepted that "one" job, he would forever be a S.H.E.I.L.D. agent. Hell, he was even going to get the fancy nickname, which was going to be quite fitting, especially with his animagus form, but was a pretty good clue that Fury expected him to stay. Still, though, it was interesting that he was given a choice.

**Sentinel**

If there is one thing Harry is good at, it is observation. It started as an act of self-preservation, because he _had_ to know when to avoid his uncle's fists and rage. Then, upon entering the wizarding world, it expands to suit his role a seeker and sometime dark wizard target. But it is with the war that it truly comes into play. In the war, it becomes more than just a sort of extreme situational observation skill set, and more of a really extreme hyperawareness. It becomes so easy to see and comprehend even the smallest of details, and it saves his life so often that is eventually becomes less of a skill and more of a persistent habit. A habit that seems unlikely to die any time soon, especially with his new job for S.H.I.E.L.D.

**Hawkeye**

Coulson usually didn't spend his time playing handler, babysitting newbies. Fury knew, better than most that Coulson was a very good agent with a deep seated hatred of even the mere thought of that duty, which meant his latest mission was highly unusual.

_-Agent Barton, aka Hawkeye, is now your immediate subordinate. For the foreseeable future, he will report directly to you and you will be in charge of all aspects of his missions and reports.-_

That _highly _unsatisfactory note had been resting in his inbox that morning along with a meeting time. Which had already come and gone over half an hour before. Coulson's thoughts were getting increasingly darker, when a head peeked into the doorway.

"Hey, is this Room 320-A, building Alpha-Delta?"

Snapped temporarily out of his dark thoughts, Coulson replied succinctly. "Yes."

The head sighed in relief. "Thank God. The directions Fury gave me had me wandering around building Gamma-Epsilon like a complete idiot. By the time I realized I was in the wrong building I was already late." Here the head gained a body, as the man made his way into the room. "Name's Barton, Clint Barton. Sorry for the wait." Clint finished just as he reach the table and sat in the chair across from Coulson.

"Phil Coulson. Do you know why you're meeting with me?" Phil asked, getting straight to business.

"Eh, there was something about new agents needing the stability of a handler, but frankly I think Fury just doesn't feel like dealing with it and is pawning it off on someone just as busy as him just so that he doesn't have to deal with newbies breaking down in his office."

Phil paused, his mouth half-open, his explanation derailed by Barton's sweeping dismissal of the entire system. Not that he didn't agree, because he did, it just made his pause. Then he grinned and asked, "Fury know that you think that?"

Clint's deadpan reply nearly had Phil laughing. "Dude, that man's like a fucking mind reader. I mean, I only just met the man, but I can _tell_. It's fucking scary, cause it's like he can just see right through you with that single eye of his, you know?"

Phil could _not_ laugh, refused to laugh, but damn it all if he wasn't stating to think that maybe working with this man wouldn't be so onerous after all.

**All-Seeing Eye**

Fury likes to think he's a good spy, think he's good at gathering information. He knows that he doesn't know everything, and he knows that he makes mistakes and misses things. He's only human, after all. He also like to think that he's prepared for anything, but his newest agent seems dead-set on proving him wrong.

On the surface, Clint Barton is just, if just is the right word, an excellent sniper and a great undercover agent. He was probably trained with one of the British secret agencies to combat the terrorist uprising that had just ended. (Not, of course, that any of that was in his files.) He had all the symptoms of a man who had been, and was used to being, a one-man army in a guerilla war – a love of having weapons, many, many weapons, on his person, mild if not severe PTSD, and a sarcastic mouth with a dislike of interfering or useless higher-ups. He was a jokester and a prankster who liked heights far more than any sane person should, but then again, sanity wasn't a requirement for working with S.H.I.E.L.D.

In reality, Clint Barton was a very, very powerful magic user that at least a couple dozen agencies and countries would have sold their collective souls for, as Fury had learned today, after Barton had blasted a potential assassin away from across the room simply with the power of his mind. Not that Fury hadn't already known about magic, but learning that your newest sniper was someone that the magical nation of Britain was willing to not only sell their souls for, but also give their bodies up to science for? Well, it's not every day that you get to learn that the Boy-Who-lived was working for you.

He had a feeling that the headaches were going to be frequent with Barton around.

* * *

AN: Well, before I start on reviews, I have a couple of things I need to do. First, I should probably point out that the chapter titles for the first three chapters have all been taken from the Beatles song Blackbird. Two, should I have Hawkeye meet a few of the Avengers – like Stark or Banner before I start on the movie? And three, I know that sometimes my chapters are short but I write as it comes to me, and I don't purposefully make them super short. Also, while I try to keep my tenses all the same, sometimes I just can't. If you see something that needs to be fixed, let me know, but unless you're willing to beta, don't nag me too much, it just makes me ranty.

Now! REVIEWS!

ShadowGuardianX – Um, yeah, the hawk. It will return, but it had honestly slipped my mind while I was writing. Is there anything/where/situation you'd like to see it in? Because I always take suggestions.

ShinobiTwin05 – It will be updated soon, I'm just not happy with the next chapter. Right now it just feels like filler, but hopefully I'll have something posted by next week.

Conpeki – Yes, he does, but say if someone decided to try mind reading or a truth portion, the answers would come from Clint first – unless they specifically asked Harry, or knew how to find him.

ShadowedHand – He is pretending to be someone else, but the memories are basically an additional layer of protection should any wizards go snooping in his mind.

Moon Gibbs Potter – Thanks for pointing out the looks thing, hopefully the first section fixes that. As for my updating schedule and chapters, I'm trying for at least twice a month right now, with hopefully chapters staying in the middle to long range. Of course, I've also got a job and college, and the small issue of where to go after the movie's done, because I've never read the comics. Suggestions?

Fulminata, ultima-owner, and Noir – I just couldn't help myself! It was just perfect!

To everyone else, thank you so much for your reviews! Even if it's just short, it still makes me really happy to see the emails in my indox!

That said, I hope everyone likes this chapter, and please review!

~Sayanora!


	4. Time Enough

Chapter Four – Time Enough

**Black Widow**

Agent Barton was easily one of S.H.I.E.L.D's best, despite his relatively short tenure as an agent. So, it was safe to say that Fury didn't regret recruiting him, even with Barton's intense and dangerous alternate identity. But there were some times when he wondered if having magic hadn't driven Barton irrevocably insane.

Take his last mission, which was _supposed_ to be cut and dried. As in, Barton goes in, takes out very dangerous rogue assassin, comes home. Instead, Barton goes in, takes out a dozen assassins, recruits the rogue, comes home.

Fury sighed and rubbed his forehead, the words of his agent's cramped handwritten report dancing annoyingly behind his eyelids.

- ,and the target's willingness to work with me against the hired thugs (Fury could almost _hear_ Barton's derision for mafia hitmen) who attacked me during the course of my mission, as well as her skill in doing so, proves that she would be a capable agent and valuable addition to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ranks. Therefore, it is in the opinion of this agent that one Natasha Romanov, aka the Black Widow, be recommended for full S.H.I.E.L.D agent training and complete integration into the agency's ranks.

Fury signed again, now wondering exactly what gods he'd angered, and glared at the unrepentant agent standing in front of his desk.

"Agent Barton, provided I agree to your … _request_, are you willing to take complete and total responsibility for the Black Widow? Not only for her integration into S.H.I.E.L.D's ranks, but also for any and all missteps she may or may not take?"

"Yes sir. I am more than willing to take complete responsibility for Natasha Romanov." Clint said, while subtly emphasizing her name, and leaving unspoken that he wouldn't have asked if he hadn't been willing.

"Well then, she's all yours. Make sure she knows not to miss any of her appointments and that she reports to Coulson, same as you. _And_, make sure she knows that failure to comply with _any _of the rules and regulations during her probationary period will result in her immediate termination. Am I perfectly clear, Agent Barton?"

"Yes sir,"

"Dismissed, Agent Barton."

Clint nods and turns to leave, he's almost out the door, in fact, when he stops, almost as if he's just remembered something important. Not even bothering to turn around, he offhandedly remarks, "By the way, Director, she's a witch as well."

Fury releases an anger-filled growl as he watches his agent quickly disappear out of his office (and probably straight up into the vents), feeling his headache redouble its pounding.

**Trapdoor**

Clint was nothing if not brutally pragmatic. A carry-over from the war, he guessed, where anything potentially detrimental had to be gotten rid of, removed, before it could cause harm. So he understood the point of missions like the one he was currently on, but that didn't mean he liked having to do them. Because here was a girl his age who should've been in college and out partying and _living_, but here she was killing for money. Just like him, his traitorous mind whispered, except he could take the moral highroad because he worked for the government and she for the highest bidder. Not that that made him feel better, because he'd chosen this path, but she'd been made, been molded, into this so she had no way out.

Still, she was dangerous and needed to be taken out before she irriversably damaged the already fragile web of alliances connecting the world's underbelly. Which she already started to do, however knowingly or not, with the destruction of the hospital in São Paulo, Brazil. Not to mention, she had to be a very powerful witch, since he could feel her power the minute he entered the city. Which meant she could also throw the magical underworld into chaos.

Unfortunately for Clint, S.H.I.E.L.D wasn't the only group who decided to remove the Black Widow, and because Fate hated Clint, they all decided on the _same exact day_ to attack. And unlike Clint, who just wanted to get this mission over and done with, most mafia hitmen were more than willing to kill anyone who interfered with their "kill". So Clint was forced to fight for his life up on the roofs of this freezing Russian city when he quite literally drops in on his original target. He doesn't even have time to think about warming her before the hitman who had just been trying to take his head of with some sort scythe-like nuchuck thing drops in through the newly made skylight for her attic room, so Clint just reacts, rolling onto his back and angling his knife up and in, straight through the heart.

That taken care of, he stands up and introduces himself with far more cheer than he expected for having just been ambushed by about a dozen hitmen. "Hi, my name's Clint Barton. I work for S.H.I.E.L.D., and I'm here to offer you a job. Cause, you see, you've got at least a couple dozen Families and various organizations that are very upset with you and out to kill you, so I think it might be a good idea to accept." Even though he really didn't have the authority to make that offer, and Fury was probably going to kill him for pretty much throwing his orders out a window and lighting them on fire as he laughed manically. And if Fury didn't kill him Coulson was sure to, because he was the one most likely to become her handler if she accepted. But he couldn't bring himself to care, because deep down he still had a saving-people thing, and if anyone deserved saving, she did.

She had just opened her mouth, probably to tell him what exactly he could do with his offer, when another hitman slips in through the hole in the roof, one barges in through the front door, and one more rolling out of the bathroom, somehow having come in from the absolutely minuscule bathroom window. After the intruders are dealt with, she simply cocks her head to the side and asks "Why?"

Clint shrugged, "Because I think you deserve a second chance. A chance to live your life how you want, away from this, away from the life that makes you wash in innocent blood and twist your magic to do so."

Natasha snorted, "You think so? Because I sure as hell don't."

Clint frowned mulishly. "Well, you do. Quite frankly, I'd be willing to fight Death himself to give you that chance. Because I was worth one, even after everything I did, and so are you."

She stared at him for a few seconds, almost as if she can't believe he's insane enough to mean that, and eventually Clint starts to wonder if she's trying to decide how easy it would be to hide his body, when she sighes, and pulls a small rusack from under her cot.

"So, where's my ride?"

Clint grins evilly, "Follow me."

And that is how the Hawk and the Spider meet.

**Budapest**

Budapest starts as a standard, in-out, infiltration and assassination mission. Natasha isn't cocky, because that can be _fatal_, but it has been three years since she joined S.H.I.E.L.D. and she already has a four month string of successful solitary, watchmanless missions behind her. That doesn't mean it doesn't sting when she has to call in her backup because the mission completely falls apart. Still to hear Clint come over the comm telling he'll be there in five, soothes it, a little.

And she's glad it's him, because in the few minutes it takes home to get there, it all goes even more to hell. Because somehow the target has an _army_, and she's an assassi, _not _a one women army, so the appearance of an arrow in the eye of one of her vaguely insectiod attackers is welcome. Of course, after that, the fight devolved into less of a battle and more of a weird type of guerrilla warfare. Because the army, and she uses that term lightly, really are quite a bit like genetically engineered humanoid flies (or is it fly-like humans?), and fighting them ends up destroying several blocks of thankful empty buildings in Budapest's slums over the course of the day. By the end of it, she's exhausted, knows there's been at least a couple million dollars in property damage, but the target's dead along with his army and she's still alive and so is Clint. All in all, it was pretty fun and she already knows that it'll be a great story to scare recruits with later.

Except Clint is nowhere to be seen, and when she gets to where she last saw him, he's curled up in a ball, clutching his side and groaning, blood molting his lips from where he's coughed it up. Natasha with growing horror, because she doesn't know how to help him, because a first aid kit can't help a punctured lung or internal injuries and she doesn't know enough medical magic to heal him. And there's no one to call, not even Phil, because Clint had been the only one sent as back up, and she can't fly a Quinjet - even if she knew where Clint had stashed it. So she must sit and watch as he dies.

Except, he doesn't.

Well, that's not entirely accurate, because he _does _die - or at least his heart stops beating - but then he's alive again, up and gasping for breath as if he hasn't just punctured a lung and drowned in his own blood not 15 minutes earlier.

She knows she should be bothered by the bullshit Clint starts spewing almost immediately after he gets his breathing under control, something about some sort of family ablity and high magic levels, but she's not. After all, stranger things have happened because of magic, and it feels oddly _right _that Clint returned from the dead. Because, hadn't he promised, all those years ago when he saved her, that not even Death would stop him from making sure she was happy and living the life she wanted? And that he would kill anyone that tried to keep that from her? Besides, he had trusted her when no one else would, had put everything on the line for her, and the least she could do was trust him back.

So when her normally taciturn friend stopped talking, she just gives him a look that tries to convey all of that, and like always, Clint understood her wordless message, as he smiled sheepishly.

* * *

AN: So! Here is chapter four, and I must say, y'all know how to show a girl love. I mean – 38 reviews for the last chapter? We're almost at 100, everyone! And that doesn't count the Follows and Favs! And Communities! (23, people!) So this chapter has been in the works since I decided to expand this story, although I guess some of you thought I might have forgotten it? Never fear though! Also, when Natasha talks about Clint fighting death – that's how _she_ views what Clint said. And yes, Clint is still the Master of Death, but basically that just means Clint can't die of anything other than old age, he's not immortal, just really, really, hard to kill. Make sense?

On a different note, I had planned for the next chapter to start the movie. Then, I got the idea of a couple Pre-avengers shots, but that was just one chapter, so whatever. Then, I watched the Avengers on Sunday, and my muse was like "Hey why don't you write something about this? And hey? What about that? Hey! Hey! HEY!" while I'm like "that doesn't fit my timeline you #% $&!". Unfortunately, my muse won, which means both chapters shall be written, and _then_ I'll start the movie. And I will explain the remembering Budapest differently, just have to get there.

Finally, before I start on reviews, I am open to pairings. This story will never be relationship heavy, and there will never be a sex scene because I literally can't write them without it turning into something out of a bad romance novel, but they can be there. I am open to any relationship, gay or straight, for any of the characters Marvel!verse – not Potter!verse. The only person who will remain canon under all circumstances is Thor (because really, I can't see him with anyone but Jane.) So, suggestions are welcome!

Now reviews! (Guest are numbered in order of review age, 1 = oldest, and so on)

Ultima-owner – No, Clint's just joking.

Guest 3 – That was actually all very helpful, and I plan to use some of that, in some for (you'll see soon).

Shadow fang the black wolf – Yes, yes Clint is, although I'm not quite sure about Clint and Tony's relationship.

Guest 4 – I think Harry's near sighted, but I haven't really thought about it.

ShadowGuardianX – Thanks for the ideas! I'm definitely using some of them!

Satan Santa – Unfortunately, I'm not going to stray from the movie too much, although I might write an Omake where that happens.

Anon – Thanks for your ideas past the movie, not to sure what I'm doing yet, but it's appreciated.

Agon Dy – Hmm. Those are good ideas! And – maayybee….

Guest 5 – That's actually a good idea, and I've actually got a couple things floating around my mind now to make that a full chapter after I finish the movie!

Well, that's a wrap! Please don't forget to review!

~Sayanora!


	5. Birds of a Feather

Chapter Five – Birds of a Feather

**Magic is Might**

Phil learns about Clint's past a lot earlier than anyone else (even Fury isn't aware of it until after Clint's already been working at S.H.I.E.L.D. for over half a year). It had barely been a month, and they hadn't even been on a mission yet. They'd just been coming back from getting donuts at this place Clint had found that let him sit in the giant donut on the top of the store. Phil is trying not to laugh, because Clint looks just like a petulant child after Phil had told him that it was technically illegal for him to sit up there. Then he is suddenly in this tiny side alley behind a shimmering silver energy shield, watching as Clint demolishes a group of men in black robes and white mask with nothing more than what looks like brightly colored energy beams.

That is, until another one appears almost directly behind Clint and shouted what sounded like "deleo". Clint doesn't even have time to look surprised before the sickly pale green energy beam hits him. Phil can only watch with a sort of horrified awe as Clint just pales, almost as if all of his colors are being bleached away. It takes Clint beginning to list dangerously to the side to snap Phil out of it, and then he calmly detaches his petrified emotions, shoves them in a dark corner of his mind, pulls out his gun, and finishes the job Clint started by killing the latecomer.

Then, wondering how exactly he's going to explain this to Director Fury – especially if Clint's actually as dead as he fears – Phil turns to find Clint standing, looking like nothing's happened. Except something has, and there's a wariness to Clint's eyes, tenseness in his shoulders.

Phil sighs internally, and cocks an eyebrow, "So, when were you planning on telling me you were Doctor Strange's long lost cousin? Because I think that's something I need to know for our, what did you call it? 'Healthy, and therefore somewhat boringly normal, working relationship'?"

Clint stares at him for a few seconds, blinking languidly, before breaking out in a terrifyingly wide grin. "This calls for more DONUTS!"

Later that day, Phil watches as the sugar high archer lays waste to the base, a mess he knows he'll have to clean up, but not really finding it within himself to care. Because he's still amazed that Clint – who shares _nothing_ – was willing to share his past with him, his handler.

**Newbies **

Clint is not allowed around new recruits.

Oh, no one comes out and says that he _can't,_ but after the third time he "meets" the new recruits and over half of them subsequently quit? (The rest still largely refused to a) talk about it and b) stand within five feet of him. Apparently, some of the weaker willed ones have complete mental breakdowns at the mere thought of having to be in the same room as him. Fury _still_ complains about the therapy bills.) After that, Phil just quietly pulled him aside and told him that unless he _wanted_ Fury to yell at him and bench him (or worse, cut his upgrade funding – also known as a paycheck), he might want to start being unavoidably detained and very far from the base during new recruit orientation.

Clint just sighed, muttered something about weeding out the unworthy, and acquiesced.

**Mountain**

Maria Hill starts out at S.H.I.E.L.D. a nobody. Her "starting class" was the last one that saw Hawkeye in all his glory, and unlike everybody else, she is grateful for it. Because unlike the recruiters, where almost every second word was an obvious lie and horrifically sugarcoated, Agent Hawkeye tells it like it _is_ – the clear, unvarnished truth. Because S.H.I.E.L.D. _is_ an organization of spies and assassins and death, and everyone from the lowliest techie to the Director is expected to be able to kill when necessary.

For a long time, as she slogs her way up the ranks, she wonders if she should thank him for it when she finally gets to meet him again, once she's a _somebody_. But by the time she gets a chance, it's been over half a dozen years, and even though she's worked her way up, all the way up to one of Fury's top agents, she still feels like the just college graduated junior information tech she had once been.

In the end, she never does thank him for it. In part, it is because she reaches the conclusion that he probably hadn't meant for his words to be taken that way. And, she's half-afraid he won't even remember.

**Firing Range**

Contrary to popular opinion, and the base's betting pool, Clint actually does know how to use a gun, in all the many forms they come in. The Goblins' had been more than willing to help Harry find both trainers and weapons, and he did carry a pistol or two in addition to his bow and knives. He just doesn't prefer them.

There are many reasons for that, but the biggest reason – besides the fact that they might _explode_ in his _face_ – is that guns are just too _easy_. He can hit at bull's-eye at 1000 meters, blindfolded and hungover, with a pistol, and he's fairly positive that he could do the same with a sniper rifle from farther away while he was _asleep_, except he's never tried and Phil might kill him if he did. So guns are his "oh, sh*t, don't have time for anything else" weapon.

There are other reasons, darker reasons, but that's the reason he'd give if someone asked him while he was sober – not that anyone ever did.

* * *

AN: So, firstly – Oh My F$*&#g God. Over forty reviews for this chapter! Y'all absolutely soared over the hundred review mark, which made my muse weep tears of joy (not that I could see, as she is looking decidedly fairyish right now), and it made me dance with joy. Well, let's just say that on my end, we are both happy.

Ok, this chapter covers both before chapter four, and a little after, basically it's filler and a few more introductions. Now, just so you know, Phil doesn't get the whole story right away, but since I figure Clint will have been in S.H.I.E.L.D. for over a decade by the Avengers movie, Phil has a lot of time to get the while story (and yes, he knows about the Master of Death thing). Originally, Hill was going to be introduced in Newbies, but it wasn't happening. And oddly, I rather like recruit!Hill. And lastly, deleo is Latin for blot out, annihilate. It is a made up spell that's supposed to basically drains that victims magic and life force, until their body can no longer support them.

And before I get to reviews, I have to mention the relationships for this story. I currently haven't decided if I'm even going to do them yet, but someone made a good point for just keeping it gen, so for now that's all it'll be. If later on, I change my mind, I'll keep in mind any suggestions that are made, but it will be my choice at not necessarily majority rules.

Anyway, now for reviews!

Teucrian - Thanks!

Zyrieen - Yes, yes she is, thanks to the fic Harry, Hero of What? And I have read that story, but I hope this chapter shows that Clint isn't always serious. As for the Prank War - I'm thinking of that as an after Avengers chapter. Maybe Natasha drags in Tony to help her make Clint feel better? I'm thinking about it at the very least.

Dannichigo - Tony, maybe. Coulson, definitely.

Mikah Sol - Oh the ideas!


	6. Migration

Chapter Six – Migration

**Highway to Hell**

Tony is used to stalkers, because he has at least three different fanclubs that Jarvis constantly is keeping tabs on and at least a dozen reporters that are all on his 'Do not engage for they are creepy and stalkerish' list. Not to be confused with his 'Do not engage for they are hot but really creepy and insane' list. Or any one of his many other lists he uses to keep track of the women, and occasional man, who try to be a highly unwanted part of his life.

But he has never, in all his life, been stalked by an animal. Followed, yes, like that one time a dog followed him home when he was seven and Howard had made him get rid of it. But stalked? Never.

That, however, didn't mean it wasn't happening _right now._

Because there was, of all things, a hawk following him.

Well, technically, according to Jarvis, it was a _Milvus milvus_ or Red Kite, which is, apparently, a hawk subspecies. It was also native to several countries in the Eastern Hemisphere, including Turkey, Europe, Russia, and, oddly, the United Kingdom (_NOT_ the United States). Supposedly, it was _not_ red, but instead brown with black wing feathers. Also, because Jarvis is a font of absolutely useless information at times, kites are apparently the bird of the Egyptian Goddess Isis and symbolizes resurrection.

It is also supposed to be an endangered species that has absolutely no right to roost outside his New York apartment and stare at him! And sleep in his _cars!_ (Although he is glad to know that Happy is deathly afraid of birds of prey.)

Still, just as he's about to call Animal Control, the hawk disappears, leaving him alone to deal with the aftermath of almost dying of Palladium poisoning, Fury being an ass (not qualified - _bullshit_), and trying to build a self-sustaining tower. And, strangely enough (or maybe not, because he has probably gone insane), he actually misses yelling at the damn bird to leave him alone, and it staring at him and saying, with that flat look, make me, Iron Dork.

**Gatekeeper**

Heimdall likes to keep track of the Wizards on Midgard, because they have the blood of the gods and the stars running through their veins. And Freya always liked to hear his stories about the decendents of those she had blessed all those years ago. One of her current favorites was the one known as Clint Barton, for he was a strong warrior, with a courageous heart.

And sometimes, Freya would wonder if she would be the one to keep him when he died, after Death released him.

**Tightrope **

Clint isn't sure sure what to make of the behemoth currently breaking in to see the "meteor". Because he can tell that the man is broken, will be shattered, and might just welcome the arrow that Clint has readied. And somehow, that just makes it harder to release the arrow into this broken man that he is starting to unwillingly root for. So Clint is glad that he doesn't have to, because the man gives up, surrenders, under the heavy weight his new-found loss.

And then when the man leaves, he and Coulson just share a look, because even if the information hadn't popped up as such, he is obviously not who Selvig claimed. Then there is a hawk winging its way through the drenching sky after the truck.

**Flock**

Bruce was a hunted man, and as such, he tried to keep his head down as to not attract attention to himself. If he had to say so, he was pretty good at it. Except for the fact he had a friend. Well, friend is a bit of a loose term, because it's a _bird_, and it just seems to follow him around, has been ever since Egypt, always arriving a few days after him wherever he goes so long as he doesn't travel Hulk. And when he _does_, it's just always there, staring at him when he wakes up. Sometimes it even manages to bring his emergency bag, which should be impossible, because the bird is _tiny _and the bag weighs at least 50 pounds.

Of course he doesn't know that the hawk is actually a man who knows lightening charms and gives a shit that Bruce has clothes and money and _his _things. Because Fury told him to keep an eye on Bruce, and Bruce deserves all the help Clint can give, and has given for the past year and a half, never mind his orders to stay out of sight. And when he is called away, first to New Mexico, then off to Tessaract sitting duty, Fearn is more than willing to take over.

But Bruce does know that it is very ominous when his bird friend goes from calm and napping in the corner of the small apartment he is currently working in to awake and sqawking angrily. It is even more so when the hawk starts demanding, as only a bird can, that the window be opened, nearly killing itself as it rams the glass, then disappears into the night as quickly as possible once he gets the window open for it.

It doesn't make sense until S.H.I.E.L.D. comes to pick him up a few hours later, but even then something nags at the back of his mind that something else, something _more _is wrong.

* * *

AN: Just a small pre-Avengers look! Just so everybody knows, the hawk watching Tony is Clint's hawk from when he was Harry, and it leaves because Clint needs her to watch Banner. By the way, her name is the Celtic rune that means both man and hawk. Also, I'm moving the movie timelines around, because I'm fairly positive that Thor takes place during Iron Man 2 in canon, and for this story, Thor happens after Iron Man 2 is over.

Speaking of the movie (It shall be happening next chapter), a couple of people have been asking how much I'm changing it, and unfortunately, because I don't want to spoil anything, y'all will have to wait. That said, the movie timeline will also be played with. Because I'm not sure how long it's supposed to take, as in the number of days, but I'm saying the movie had to have taken at least a week from start to finish. Cause, I got to say it, it takes over 8 hours to get from New York to Germany in a regular jet. I don't care how fast the Quinjets go, there is no way they could "find" Loki and reach him like they did in the movie unless Loki froze in front of a camera for a couple of hours.

And, before I get to reviews, I must hail the powers that be of Wikipedia, without which I would have no information on different types of hawks, nor their habitats. And yes, Clint is a Red Kite animagus, and Fearn is a Red Kite.

Also, if, and I do mean if!, this story manages to reach 200 reviews by the 10th of November (My birthday!) I will write a gift fic for all of you, my wonderful reviewers! I will take suggestions and write the one I like best, just please look at what I write before you ask! That means no lemons, or canons I haven't read/seen. Because if I can't write it, it won't even be able to be considered!

Now, reviews!

Dannichigo - Yes, but after the movie!

pinkpenguinparty - No, no he's not.

ShinobiTwin05 - Unfortunately, I haven't read the comics, so I don't know. And they have their ways. Many, Many ways.

ShoshonaTheRose - It is a little bit, and so's this one, but it'll pick back up next chapter. All I can say is that every chapter's important.

Jazaline Coriana Lipus - He might.

Firehedgehog - Sorta.

Shikuroaka - Oh, she'll be involved. She won't let me _not_ involve her, because she wants to mess with Tony and mother Bruce and the Captain. And Clint, of course!

AlixMM - Thanks for reminding me! Obviously, I made sure to mention that this chapter.

Absolve - I agree that he needs love, but I'm thinking someone else. His own Jane if you will, to help him deal with the wackspurts and nargles, you know. *wink wink*

Thank you for all of the reviews, and don't forget to drop one for this chapter!

~Sayonara!


	7. Impossible Odds

Chapter Seven – Impossible Odds

**Tesseract**

Of all the missions Clint had ever been given, guarding the Tesseract was easily the most boring.

After all, it consisted entirely of him watching a bunch of scientists scurry around as they worked on the glowing blue cube from his preferred perch up on the catwalk – all of it without another soul to share said watch, because he wasn't allowed to bother the scientists and Natasha was off doing God knows what in Russian nowhere land.

Hell, even Bruce would've been welcomed – as the Hulk.

Still, the extra time he gained while Tesseract-sitting was well spent, as he mentally tweaked his bow and quiver, and planned out different modications he wanted to try once he was off duty – both mechanical and magical.

Of course, the relative peace was disrupted when the Tesseract began rapidly emitting increasing levels of gamma radiation. After that, everything took a sharp turn downhill.

Not only did Director Fury arrive, which was okay, because he was the boss, but the appearance of the strange man in an explosion of energy similar, yet so unlike magic was not. It was just in the way he _smiled,_ and if that hadn't been enough of a clue, the way the self-named Loki killed so many without pause was a sign that the man was absolutely insane.

But that all ceased to matter, because he was backed into a corner and this fluttering blue veil fell over his thoughts like an alien Imperio, and fighting that took the majority of his concentration.

Because he _didn't_ want to serve Loki, he _didn't_ want to betray Natasha and Phil and Fury like he was doing _right now_, and he refused to go down without a fight.

Because he was a wizard, and he, better than anyone, knew how to fight mind control, and he would until he either freed himself or died.

And when he did, Loki would pay.

**Fight **

If Clint had thought it would be easy to fight off Loki's mind control, he was quickly disabused of that notion. Because it is _not _the Imperius Curse, it is alien and foreign and so much like a cancer.

Oh, he can beat it off, keep control of about 99% of himself, but that one percent makes such a difference. Because if he ever for a minute thinks he can stop fighting, it comes roaring back to try to wrest control from him. Because he isn't in complete control of his body, only his mind, like the part of him that is _Harry_, the part of him that he keeps hidden, is free while the part of him that is Clint is _not_.

It should scare him, he knows that, that he cannot wholly burn out this taint, but it doesn't.

Maybe it is because he sees in Loki the broken child he once was, because Loki is so much like what Harry could have become.

Mostly, it is because Clint sees Voldemort in every one of Loki's actions, and because of that, Clint refuses to give in to his fear or that taint, refuses to willingly bow down to a madman who thinks himself better than the world.

**Rebellion**

Clint can't leave Loki, and he can't go against any of Loki's direct orders, because somehow that makes the sickly blue tainted energy almost impossible to fight. Case in point, when he tried to refuse to spill the various classified information he has about his friends, colleagues, and S.H.I.E.L.D. in general, he finds himself emerging from the inky blackness of unconsciousness after an indeterminable length of time.

Needless to say, that revelation had him mentally using every one of his wide variety of curse words. Fortunately, he supposed, after spending some time going over his "memories" of what he'd said, he had been able to keep magic a secret - probably becuase Loki hadn't known to ask.

However, the taint can't stop him from doing everything in his power to make Loki's life hell by exploiting every single loophole he can find and being as "helpful" as possible. Like whenever Loki tells him to drive, Clint goes out of his way to do so as poorly as possible, and hit every ... single ... pothole. He also makes sure to "accidently" spike his magic every few hours, preferably when surrounded by all of the high-tech equipment.

But his proudest moment while under Loki's control was when he did the magical version of copy-and-paste and stuck a S.H.I.E.L.D. tracking unit onto Loki as they were flying across the Atlantic to Germany.

Then he activated it.

**Eye for an Eye**

Sometimes, when Clint has a moment of thought to spare between staving off the taint and "helping" with Loki's relentless "recruiting" (in which Clint scares people, both with and without magic, and is generally just an ass), he feels sorry for Doctor Selvig. Because this man, usually so driven and stubborn, has been turned into a spineless lapdog. Like right now, as he spews some garbage about enlightenment and "true knowledge".

But Clint can understand that draw, that siren song, of the blue taint. And if Clint were a lesser man, he'd give in too. It would be easy, oh so easy, he knows that, but he always has refused to take the easy path. Because he always has been a fighter, and no matter that he couldn't fully remove the taint, he would _always _fight it.

**Drop-In**

Attacking the Helicarrier is like a waking nightmare. Clint can't even begin to count the number of people, of friends and colleagues he's killed, because the number of deaths caused by his destruction of the engine is a dark, nebulous cloud that will haunt him forever. It is only added to by the deaths of those he killed on his way to the control room, then the ones who died in his attempts to shut down the ship, but those have faces and names and ghosts to follow him around in his head. And that dark cloud only gains more strength from them, and from his own self-loathing at being unable to fight Loki, to fight Loki's orders.

Clint is so lost in his wallowing, he almost misses the fact that he is fighting Natasha. It takes her almost breaking his arm in a twist, and even then he can't take control of his body because Loki's orders to kill everyone who gets in his way were still in effect. So he just watches detachedly, wondering vaguely what would happen to his mind if she actually killed him, when the feeling of his forehead impacting with the thick metal rail makes his mind go both groggy and clear at once.

And then he stumbles, already unused to being in control of his body after less than a week, and looks up, his entire head feeling almost to heavy. Natasha is looking down at him guardedly, and Clint vaguely thinks that she has never looked more like an avenging angel than in that single moment when he croaks out her name.

Of course, she sort of ruins the image for him when she punches him in the face.

* * *

AN: So, I've had a couple of people who have told me that I should stop replying to reviews in the story. Look, I'm sorry if it annoys you, but don't tell me its against FFN policy, because unless you're reading a different set of posting rules than me, it's not. And since I'm a busy working college student, I don't have the time to reply to each individual review, as much as I may wish I could. And don't insult my story. If you don't like it, don't read.

Anyway! RL is so not awesome right now, and the birthday did push writing back a little. Also, because I did have a couple of questions about Freya in the last chapter, I'm gonna do a side story explaining that in depth, as well as the Asgardian relationship with Earth. Just have to write it, and then I'll let you know when I post it! Also, while Clint is a hawk animagus, Fearn is a female hawk. So yes, when I use _her_ in reference to a hawk, I am _not_ talking about Clint!

Also, the next chapter will have things on the flip side, namely everybody else's point of view.

Now, reviews!

ShadowedHand - You have it right. Clint is the one watching Bruce, while Fearn is watching Tony.

LaurelGraceCourage - Uh, thanks for the thought, but I can't get the link to work.

The Eye Behind The Mask - Wasn't planning on it!

Anbu Codname-Kuro - Well, that is actually pretty good to know. I guess I'll say that the Quinjet can go Mack 3, but it doesn't really matter at this point for the story. Still, thanks for telling me, because I think that'll be useful at some point!

Guest 2 - Freya is one of the many Norse gods, and sometimes considered to be Odin's wife. And for this story, that's how it's gonna be!

Anon - Oh, the ideas! Mother-hen!Clint! And, yes, I think she is, and I'm going to do a ficlet just for that, as well as a few other things I personally want to explain.

Hope everyone likes this chapter, and please don't forget to review!

~Sayanora


	8. ShatterGlass

Chapter Eight - ShatterGlass

**Glare **

While he may not know what to do with it, Fury is not entirely surprised to find Clint's bird sitting on the back of his chair in the middle of his office on the Helicarrier, glaring at him. After spending a few moments weighing the relative merits of attempting to get closer to his desk with the bird still there, Fury decides discretion is the better part of valor and getting attacked by a bird would be embarrassing. (Because, damnit, those eyes were glinting evilly when he thought about taking a step forward, and its claws looked sharp enough to go through his arm. After going through his coat.)

So, he calls Coulson.

Coulson, God bless him, doesn't laugh.

He does, however, walk fearlessly up to the bird, and calmly holds out his arm. For one endless second, Fury is almost sure he's just sent his best agent to a certain mauling. Then, the bird seems to huff and toss its head, before slowly shuffling onto Phil's outstretched arm, seeming to make sure it didn't mar Coulson's jacket.

Then, with a nod and a short "Sir", his agent and the bird leave his office.

Fury would never, under any circumstances admit it, but he breathes easier the minute the bird's demonic glare is no longer turned on him.

**Hide and Seek **

Eventually, after Bruce has sequestered himself in his lab and Steve is God knows where, Natasha and Coulson rejoin Fury and Agent Hill on the bridge. It is quiet as a busy office space can be, but it doesn't matter, because they are all, noticeably or not, watching the computers dedicated to the search for their missing agent. It is Hill who breaks the quasi-silence.

"Sir, is there any possibility that we could remotely activate Agent Barton's tracker?"

"No, Agent Hill." Fury responded, "Those trackers are designed to only activate at the agent's discretion, in order to ensure that their cover can't be broken on accident. And with Agent Barton as he is -"

"Sir?" The agent in front of the computers interrupted hesitantly, "I'm picking up Barton's signal?"

The group fell silent in shock. "Um, I'm picking up two of them?" The agent murmured in confusion.

"...What?!" Fury growled.

Natasha, on the other hand, made a sound like a strangled laugh. "Only Clint. Only Clint." Phil cocked an eyebrow, "Did he do what I think he did?"

"I don't know, Agent," Fury ground out, his head pounding in tempo to his voice, "What exactly is it you think Agent Barton did?"

Phil replied calmly. "Magically copied his tracker, like that one time in Bangalore. Except this time he stuck it to Loki, so that once he activated them both, we would be able to track Loki because it would then, for lack of a better term, be 'set' to Loki, so that he would become the only one able to turn it off. Besides us that is. Of course, I could be wrong. Has one of the signals disappeared?"

The agent squeaked as the heavy stares of all four senior agents turned on him, and hastily turned back to his computer screen. "Um, there must have been a glitch, because there's only one signal now, sir."

Fury turned back to his agents. "Agent Coulson, find the Captain, tell home to get ready then report to the main hanger. Agent Romanov, get one of the Quinjets ready and waiting for the Captain. Agent Hill," here he paused, as if he was about to say something repulsive, "contact Mr. Stark. Get him the coordinates of both the Quinjets and the tracking unit. But only once Agent Romanov and Captain Rogers are on their way. Because I know that suit of his can go at least Mach 3, and our Quinjets can only go Mach 3 for a short period of time."

**Precipice **

Natasha is on edge. She knows, deep in her soul, that she shouldn't be, because she should always remain calm and collected, that Clint will be fine (has always been fine), but that doesn't stop the dread curdling in her stomach. Because she has no idea how to save him, how to help him. And she is dancing now, along the precipice that separates anger and fear, with only her innate refusal to fall left to guide her.

Because she owes him, will always owe him, for what he did. It has nothing to do with love, or caring, or any other childish emotion, but everything to do with the ties they forged in the blood of her past and the strength of his trust.

And for that, she will make Loki pay for daring to take him away.

**Conviction **

When he goes to face Loki, he is not afraid. Even as he blade of the staff enters his lungs and exists his chest, he is not, is never, afraid. Because this man, no, overgrown child, lacks. Not just conviction, or sanity, but also a chance.

Because the Avengers are coming for him. And even as Fury bends down in front of him and tells him not to die, he still manages to smile tiredly.

"They need the push, sir." Phil murmured tiredly. "And I'll be fine, sir, I'm just so tired."

And he's right, even though Fury doesn't know it. Because Fury doesn't know Clint's secret - that Clint can't die. Nor does he know that Clint can temporarily waive someone's death. Just once, but once is all Phil needs. It is all he needs to survive, so he would be fine, and that will be good enough.

AN: Sorry this is late, finals are a bitch though. Anyway, here's the next chapter, and the following one will start the main fight!

That said, I hope everyone likes this chapter! And to everyone who mentioned that it didn't change all that much, I am sorry. The next section will change more, that I can say.

Now, Reviews!

BlackFaithMasquerade - Yes, yes it would. And if Voldemort weren't a pile of poisoned goo, I would seriously consider it. As it is, I might still do it.

Shoshona the Rose - Yes, she does.

ShadowedHand - They will, eventually, and Clint is going to kick ass.

Anon - As you can see, Coulson is good! As for the other stuff, well, everyone will react differently to Clint, and I hope to portray that well.

Memory25 - Oh, Tony and Clint are gonna get on like a house on fire, and Steve, well, Steve is going to waffle, but I think its going to end well.

Guest - I'm planning on writing something like that anyway, but that had not come to mind, so thanks!

BlazeStyker - I'd feel bad for Loki anyway, but doubly so after the next chapter!

Cricycle - Thanks for letting me know about that, because I had no idea. When I go back through and edit the entire story, I'll change that but I'll start with this chapter!

Wackyninja - It really just depends on the chapter, but I do try to write dialogue, but it has to flow!

~Ja Mata Ne!


	9. Skyfall

Chapter Nine - Skyfall

**Die Before I Wake **

It has long since stopped being disorientating to wake up in Hel's realm. It is now more like waking up in an unfamiliar bed during a mission, something like a necessary evil.

"Are you awake?" A voice whined.

Clint grunted in response, and rolled into a standing position. Nodding to the woman now standing in front of him, he asked, "Did I die?"

"Nope!" Hel exclaimed. "I just pulled you here to make sure that whatever it was my father did to you wasn't going to be permanent."

Clint nodded in agreement. "How?"

Hel smiled mysteriously. "Well, Natasha was a big help, which is good. In fact, without her, I might not've been able to _do _anything!"

They stood still for a moment, as Hel chewed on her bottom lip. "Clint..."

"Yes?"

At that Hel smiled blindingly. "Your mission, should choose to accept it."

And Clint groaned internally. He _knew _better than to actually listen to her request to find a way to stream videos to her realm.

"Is to be my avatar for the length of the battle."

Clint's eyebrow rose in response.

"Oh don't look at me like that! You know as well as I do that -"

"Fine."

Hel stared at him incredulously, so he expounded. "You wouldn't ask me that without a good reason, so I know I can trust that there's a good reason for it."

Hel smiled at the one person she could call her friend. "Ok. Now _you_," she leaned forward to poke him in the chest, "need to wake up. And make sure your mind's in order after contact with my father's idea of redecorating."

Clint smirked dryly in response, and closed his eyes to begin the assent back to the living.

**Eyes Wide Shut**

It almost physically _hurts _Natasha to see Clint like this - unconscious but shaking like a druggie coming down from a high. It cuts at her, like shards of broken glass, because it is suddenly clear that there is _nothing _she can do. The most she can do is sit here and hope - pray, and isn't that a funny thought - that everything will be alright when Clint wakes up.

It doesn't take long, barely fifteen minutes after Loki escapes, for Clint to wake up into a rapidly fading, blurry-eyed, miraculously concussion-free state. And it is all she can do not start crying in relief because his blue-green eyes are no longer glowing unnaturally. So, instead, with that relief coloring her voice, she speaks softly as Clint shakes his head dazedly. "Clint, it's going to be alright."

Clint visibly flinches and squeezes his eyes shut. "You know that? Is that what you _know_? But I ... I gotta go in though. Gotta flush him out, make sure he's _gone_."

"You've gotta level out, and that'll take time." Natasha replied evenly, even though part of her wanted to start screaming hysterically.

Clint opened his eyes, and the deadness of his stare could've frozen magma. But it was the sound of old pains brought to the fore and resignation in his voice that truly caused her heart to halt and her hands want to tremble as she poured a glass of water.

"You don't understand. Have you ever had someone take out your brain and play with it? Take you out and stuff some_thing else _back in? Do you know what it's like to be unmade?" Clint said, his voice little more than a whisper. "To have them _succeed_?"

She replied, just as quietly, "You know that I do."

The cell was quiet, save for the noise made by Natasha unbuckling the restraints holding Clint down. Clint stared up at her for a few minutes, as if wondering whether or not she meant it, before swinging his lets over the edge of the bed, picking up the glass of water, and patting the space next to him in an indication for her to sit.

"Why am I back?" He asked quietly, once she was settled. "How'd you get him out?"

At that, Natasha smirked triumphantly. "Cognitive recalibration." She stated authoritatively. At Clint's questioning look, she lightly bumped his shoulder and explained conspiratorially. "I hit you really hard in the head."

It is faint, little more than a tiny twitch of his facial muscles, but Clint's lips quirk up into a semblance of a smile as he says thanks.

They are quiet for a few more moments before Clint swallows thickly, and asks, "Nat, how many agents did I -?"

"Don't." She says, firmly interrupting him. "Don't do that to yourself. That was Loki. That was monsters and alien sorcery and nothing we could have ever been trained for."

There is another pause, just for a beat or two, as Clint wonders if she's talking about the mind control, which, theoretically, any witch or wizard in their line of work could, should, be trained to at least defend against, or the fact that it was done by an alien god-like man. Speaking of which, "Loki, he got away?"

Natasha nodded. "Yeah. Don't suppose you know where?"

Clint slowly shakes his head. "Didn't need to. Didn't ever need to ask. But he'll make his play soon, though. Today."

"Then we've got to stop him."

"'We'?" Clint replied skeptically.

Natasha shrugged. "Whoever's left."

"Well..." Clint replied slowly, "If I put an arrow through Loki's eye socket, I'd sleep better I s'pose." 'Or stab him the kidney.' Clint thought viciously.

Natasha smiled wryly. "_Now _you sound like you."

Clint gave Natasha a searching once over in response. "But you don't. You're a spy, not a soldier. Now you want to wade into a war. Why? What did Loki do to you?"

"He didn't - I just ..." She pauses and this time the silence is filled with pain.

So Clint asks gently, "Natasha?"

She tries to be stoic, but her eyes hold all the pain only a past like theirs could have. "I've been compromised. I've got red in my ledger. I'd like to wipe it out."

They sit for a little while longer in companionable silence, before Natasha pushes him off the bed and all but orders him to clean up in the dinky bathroom attached to the cell.

**Glacier**

Clint isn't angry as he suits up. He doesn't feel even a speck of rage as he gets the plane ready to fly. He is cold, so cold, down to his very soul, and the heat of anger and the fires of rage cannot reach it, cannot thaw it. All he knows is that when he finally meets Loki, it will take all that he is not to send the Asgardian's soul straight to Hel for what he has done to Natasha, to Phil, to _himself_.

So when he tells the Captain that it would be his pleasure to play scout and kill as many of the things coming out of the portal, he means it with a dark thrill of vengeance. (Although he could've done without Stark's Legolas comment.)

Because that is what it _means _to be the Master of Death - Death's living avatar.

**Nightmare **

Staying calm in the face of a beating from a green giant is easy, all he must do is lay there and accept the fact that his body _hurts_, and movement is _not _an option. Staying calm in the face of a serene smile from a man who had once been under his control as that man calmly removed the tips of his arrows is about as easy as staying calm in the face of a rampaging bilgesnipe.

That is to say, the image terrified him.

"Did you know, Loki," The man said steadily, as if he wasn't facing the god who'd destroyed most of Manhattan and the man's _life _this past week. "That I have had my mind invaded by three people before you?" The man finished with a smile so pleasant it was demonic.

Loki felt a shiver go down his back at those words, but the man was still talking.

"The first time I knew of it I was fourteen, and one of my teachers tried to make me do something. Don't quite remember what. I was able to resist, though, and I was able to throw off the curse used in the attempt to control me. I killed him later, you know, "the man said conversationally, "turned out he'd been a traitor and attempting to murder me. Stabbed him when he tried, got to watch as his insides turned into soup from the potion that particular knife had been carrying. Now the second, the second was another teacher, my Headmaster in fact. See, he'd been twisting my mind around, trying to at least, for almost six years in an attempt to turn me into the perfect little puppet. It didn't work, and I didn't even get to kill him for it, seeing as someone else got to him first. But no matter. And let's see, the third, ahh, the third."

Here an unholy light entered the man's eyes, but still, calmly as ever, continued to clean his equipment. "The third, now he had truly ruined my life - killed my parents, my friends - the whole shebang. But see, now him, he tried to possess me, which, on principle, I despise. So, I poisoned him with Basilisk venom. Which, I don't know if you know, is an agonizing torture, regarded as pain incarnate to us mortal wizards. Oh, it can kill anyone - there is _no _antidote - but in wizards, their innate magic attempts to fight off the venom. So it's one of the first things to go. Imagine, dying in agony as your very _cells _degrade, only to have it compounded with the devastating pain of your magic disappearing at the same time. Imagine having your _soul _destroyed along with your body. And it takes almost five minutes for the victim to die. Luckily for you Loki, I don't have any of the venom in my possession, or else I'd be testing the effects on an Asgardian for the first time. And see, I can't even _hurt _you, because, besides Thor, who _still _wants to save you for reasons I literally do _not _know, there's Natasha, and Phil and everyone else who wants a piece of you."

Here the man paused, finally finished with his equipment, and squatted next to Loki.

Loki swallowed heavily, as the fear already curdling in his gut turned into what could only be termed abject terror. "What are you going to do?" Loki questioned thickly.

The man smiled kindly, and that made Loki's blood run cold. Because this man, this insane man, was Death crazed and amazingly, terrifyingly _human_.

"Oh," the man purred, "I'm not going to _do _anything, Loki. Not now, maybe not for a millennium, but know this Loki, one day I'll come for your soul." At that the man's smile turned demonic, and he stood to leave.

But just as he reached the stairs leading up to the Tessaract machine, he paused. "That is," he said thoughtfully, "unless you give me a reason not to. So you'd better _hope _I find a reason not to."

* * *

AN: *peeks out from behind firewall* Um, hello? Now, see I've got a good explanation for this. Between finals and 40 hour weeks at my job (yay holiday retail), I literally had no time or energy to write. Not to mention, my computer is barely alive, and internet is impossible to get at home, so there was no way to post anything, even if it was written. Although, I must say thank you to everyone who wished me luck with my finals – and I hope all of yours went well too!

Anyway, I hope this chapter makes up for it, although I must say that my updating schedule is moved back for this story. Unfortunately, biweekly updates are unlikely, and monthly are what I'm aiming for.

Now, reviews!

SwiftShadow – Hmm, no, he'll pop back up – probably next chappie!

Random – I usually don't do this in story, but as you're a guest reviewer, check out An Iron Magic by mortavida(?). It's an awesome Harry!Tony story, and their currently working on a sequel, too.

Anon – Yes, reactions will be seen, Avengers and American Ministry-wise! As for the magical showdown – not yet. I just couldn't get it to fit with the idea that popped into my head at 1 o'clock in the morning a week ago. Maybe for something else, because I do have a sort of mother hen!Clint going on. Suggestions?

Sanna Black Slytherin – Maybe. I still have to decide how I want the last of the movie to end.

ValeryaPotter – Harry might, but by now he's really more Clint than Harry, so it'll be rare!

Please don't forget to review!

~Je Mata!


	10. Iscariot

Chapter Ten – Iscariot

**Avatar**

Hel watched in amusement as her avatar left her father terrified, slowly beginning to withdraw from the connection that bound him to her. Once finished, her avatar mortal once more, she turned the grey orb of power that was their connection over in her hands. As she did so, her gaze fell upon the angry red orb pulsing at eye level about five feet from her throne, almost a foot closer than it had been before the battle.

Sighing softly, she murmured, "Oh, mine Avatar, mine Will in the mortal realm, what shall you do when you finally come face to face with the one who seeks to steal mine soul?"

**Resurrection **

Phil is vaguely aware that he is floating, his body a distant tether of which he is even less aware.

Sometimes, during his clearer moments, he can hear the beeping of machines and the whispers of the doctors and nurses, but it is always subdued and distant. However, he does know that they are wondering _how_ he is still alive. Not that it really matters to him, because he's more concerned with how long Clint's going to take before getting around to pulling his soul out of the inky darkness.

Then, all at once, he is slammed back into his body, violently awake and so very _alive _– and unfortunately staring at Clint's unrepentant smirk.

**Collection**

Tony is not quite sure how it happens, but somehow _his_ tower becomes The Tower of Homeless Superheroes/heroines. (Because Tony does _not_ want to consider what Natasha would do to him if he were to forget to include her.) Frankly, only one of them was supposed to be living with him, so he's got no idea how the rest of them thought they had an invitation too.

Anyway, it starts like this.

Bruce _does not_ get to leave Manhattan, because Tony refuses to let the one person in a 300 mile radius who can speak proper English just up and leave. And he refuses to believe that Bruce doesn't want to stay, because what sane person would want to leave his awesome research labs. (Not to mention his generally amazing self.)

About two weeks later, Tony leaves his lab at around midnight after a two day suit upgrading marathon to grab a cup of coffee so that he can power through for a third day, only to find Barton hugging his coffee machine whilst sleeping on his countertop.

Tony stops and just kind of stares at him for a moment before coming to the conclusion that he's suffering from a hallucination, and decides to get some sleep. Unfortunately, Barton is still there come morning and Tony can't _say_ anything, because Bruce is just so damn happy looking, sitting there, talking to Barton and eating eggs, bacon, _and are those pancakes?_ Which, of course, leaves Tony wondering where the _hell_ Barton managed to find all that food in his bare-ass kitchen.

So, he doesn't bother complaining when he realizes a few days later that Jarvis, the traitor, went behind his back and gave the birdie a room. After all, _pancakes._ (However, he _is_ somewhat disturbed by the knowledge that _his_ robots have buddied up with the archer to make sure he eats. Damn traitors, the lot of them.)

Following that, he also knows better that to say a word when a certain spider appears at the breakfast table and tells him that she _will _be staying.

It ends with the Capsicle walking in sheepishly following behind a miraculously alive Coulson, like he's an overgrown puppy in need of a home during the middle of breakfast. (Something about an attempted kidnapping of the Capsicle?) This, Tony does protest. Well, tries to, at the very least. But the Capsicle's got these blindingly overwhelming puppy dog eyes and Coulson's wearing this really scary smile that makes Tony fear for his boys.

…And his life, but mainly his boys. So he shuts up.

Of course, this is when Coulson shows he really is capable of ruling the world, near death experience and lack of superpowers be damned.

**Follow You Down**

Phil, satisfied with his quelling of Stark, turned to the table where the rest of the Avengers, barring Thor, were gathered. (Even Steve had taken a seat, and, as usual, Clint had already begun the mothering process by giving Steve a stack of pancakes larger than his head.) "Mr. Banner, you are enjoying your most recent stay in New York, are you not?"

The man blinked slowly in confusion, but nodded as the rest of the Avengers shot Phil questioning looks.

"And your intent is to remain here, for so long as you are a member of the Avengers?"

Bruce nodded again, as Natasha and Clint fixed Phil with a hard stare.

"And, I presume that you are not averse to continuing to spend time in Agent Barton's company?"

Bruce gave a final, incredibly confused nod.

Phil smirked in response, before turning to Rogers. "And you Captain? What would your answer be to those questions?"

The two men shared a confused look as the rest of the team continued to stare are Phil.

Eventually, Steve nodded. "Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?"

Phil ignored the question. "Agent Barton, I have your new standing orders, which are to be followed at all times – barring the introduction of new elements such as missions and other extenuating circumstances. Agent Barton, effective immediately, you are to remain within 5 miles of Dr. Banner and Captain Rogers, as backup in the event that hostiles attempt to attack, harm or otherwise remove them from the equation. Agent Romanov and myself will assist you with this mission, as necessary. Your current base of operations is Stark Tower, although the location is subject to change. Also, on an unrelated note, Director Fury is no longer amused, Agent Barton, and is demanding that you come in for your debrief which should have happened almost a month ago. The Director has authorized me to use whatever force I deem necessary to bring you in. So if you aren't following me as I leave the building, I will tase you and drag you in by your feet."

Clint, gods love him, didn't even have the good grace to look sheepish as he stood to follow Phil.

**Vexation**

Fury usually doesn't dislike his subordinates and agents, because for the most part they work together like a well-oiled machine and don't _bother _him. Of course, he doesn't count that damnable Agent Barton in with the rest of the organisation. In fact, right about now he could say that he actively despised that man. (And he thanked all the gods he knew that he had pawned Barton off on Coulson all those years ago.)

Case in point, Agent Coulson's... "survival". As if the man hadn't given Fury enough headaches over the course of his SHIELD tenure, Barton seemed to be going out of his way to give his boss an unremitting migrane. And Barton didn't even have the good grace to look remotely apologetic when faced with the evidence of his iniquity.

Most annoyingly, however, Fury couldn't even yell at the shit. Because no matter how impossible it was that Phil miraculously "got better" after Barton visited him, there was no way Fury was going to let those obnoxious little toadies that made up the Council know about magic.

_That_ was why Fury couldn't legitimately ream Barton for the migrane he was currently sporting as a result of having to logically explain Coulson's almost resurrection, because technically Barton _had nothing to do with it_.

AN: Pancakes, the wonder food. (I will hear no argument otherwise!)

Anyway, I'm sorry this chapters so late, but my computer finally up and died, making it hard for me to type and post. (In fact, I'm only getting this posted because of the lovely school computers at my college, but such is life.) Which means that, not by choice, this is going to be my last chapter for a while. That said, I will still be writing, so hopefully I can have plenty to post once I get a new computer.

Ok, now that I'm finished with the serious stuff, on to reviews!

silverbluerose - Currently, Thanos is unaware Clint exists as anyone but one of the people who caused his plans to fail. Hopefully, this chapter cleared up some of your confusion, and I will say that the Tesseract would react - if he had been MoD near it. I am still working out exactly what being MoD means for this story, which unfortunately means a lot of holes. But I am working on closing those up.

Anon - First, let me say that your reviews give me so many evil ideas. I am, obviously, already working in mother hen!Clint, and giving Fury a permanent migrane. And of course Clint will continue being both BAMF! and MH!Clint. Unfortunately, the updating is getting even more sporadic, but I WILL try to keep up with it!

Everyone else - Thank you so much for reviewing! Seeing them all in my inbox makes me dance with glee! So, I hope everyone likes this chapter and please don't forget to review!

~Ja ne!


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